151  0
by L. C. Stuart
Summary: This is a soldiers story.


**151-0**

Conclusion

It was another 12 hours until his duty was up. The job wasn't tough. All he had to do was stag on the phone and wait for the next Muppet to call and dick him for something that he didn't care about. Probably asking for some stupid detail about another soldier that didn't matter to him in this life.

As exciting as it seemed, he realised that this was his war. Four years ago he signed up after picking up shop and flying around the world to join the Army and "Be the Best". Four years ago the Iraq war was kicking off and Challenger 2 MBTs were rolling over the border and blowing some real shit up. Four years ago American forces were tagging everything including their own allies and lighting up the news papers with "Shock and Awe" as well as blue on blue. Four years ago he didn't know any better.

Now he sat here part of his current unit. As with every other regiment or battalion that he was posted to, they were "the best". As with everything else that he learned over the last couple of years of this reality, he really didn't believe what was written on the tin.

The unit was soon to deploy to the heat of the desert. The soldiers were to be greeted by that piss and poo smell of that shit hole of a country. Oh they were also going to get the smell of burning oil, the sound of car bombs and daily prayers to Allah. Lucky them.

For the locals though, it really wasn't their fault that the Iraq sucked. That it stank of dead bodies and burning oil. That it lost over $8 Billion dollars US from it's GNP. That the life expectancy of it's civilians were now as long as the fuse on the next suicide bomber's belt loop. All of that wasn't the country. All of that was war.

* * *

Introduction – The Clerk!

His unit was soon going to deploy on their second tour of Iraq. They were going be adding to the pages of Regimental History. Most of that history was not going to be good. Especially when those news reports hit the BBC.

He wasn't though. He was the Clerk and even better yet! He had signed off. He had the best (or worse) seat in the house to see what was going to happen next.

He would never write anything memorable in the pages of Regimental History. The only thing that he was adding to was the log book as he sat on duty and maybe an incident report if he was unlucky enough to actually have to do his job.

The job he had to do when one of the lads got intelligent for 'that' second. You know, 'that' second before he was filled in; 'that' second before he fell over or off of something; 'that' second before that bone no matter how big or small broke and ended up in a cast. It was all because of that second that he had to bother himself to identify the problem and tell somebody who cared. More like had to care because they also were unlucky enough to be on duty the same night that he was on. These guys and 'that' second that he worked with, really became brilliant, when they got together and especially after a few drinks.

* * *

Introduction - The Unit

This time though, he was with a Cavalry Regiment and supposedly a step up from the last lot he was with. 3 Years ago he was clerking hard in an Infantry Battalion and this unit was, as everyone around him preached, "better". It was funny how they measured "better" or "best" in the army. They didn't measure it in what they had achieved. More on what they haven't.

Much unknown to the public eye, the battle honours and achievements really are just a good start to a good piss up. They really don't impact the current (i.e. living) unit in any way unless it encompasses a marquee or bar. Sure it might touch one or two of the soldiers who actually give a damn and pay attention to such things. The real grading of "better" or "best" in the army comes down to the least amount of (drunken) infractions of army regulations.

Yes, the better units were the ones that had soldiers that had less encounters with 'that' second. They were more disciplined, and preformed better because they didn't do something stupid. If only they could put that in the Queen's Regulations for the army would we have the 'Best' Army in the world. Instead, they just act like they're the 'best' until the bar opens. Then the real winners (and losers) revealed themselves.

No, his unit was deploying soon. His previous unit however was already deployed. Now all he read about were more and more lads he know getting slotted and were not coming home. More and more families were losing sons and not seeing birthdays. More and more resources were wasted out in the heat and not stopping terror.

Each day there were reminders of what could have been. Each letter that flies out to mates in the desert gives courage to those fighting the good fight. Each day takes him closer to getting out.

* * *

151

The days were over a thousand when he was sitting in the counties up north waiting for the marches. Back when he was tired of sleeping away from his family and friends a continent away. Now he's tired of living out of a suit case or having four boxes of items to his name. Now he had 151 days to push and no more tours, and no more crap living in the stinking block. Now he had 12 more hours and then the duty was over and the counter moved down to 150.

What happened when the counter got to 0? Well he had plans, but they were his plans and nobody else but him needed to be bothered about what he did with them.

L.C. Stuart


End file.
